


i might write you down (so i can watch you leap up off the page)

by Rubick



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Happy Ending, If you read the tags you’ll spoil the fic, I’m pretty sure you’ll be fine if you skip over the tags, Light Angst, Light Angst with a Happy Ending, Little bit of Jane Chatwin bashing, M/M, Okay I warned you, POV Eliot Waugh, Post-Mosaic Timeline (The Magicians: A Life in the Day), Quentin Coldwater Lives, Sorry I Just Watched 5.3 for the First Time and I have Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:06:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27507322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubick/pseuds/Rubick
Summary: Eliot reads a book.
Relationships: Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh
Comments: 31
Kudos: 76





	i might write you down (so i can watch you leap up off the page)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AmbiguousPenny](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmbiguousPenny/gifts).



Eliot turns the book over in his hands. It’s longer than the first one, but not as long as the third. It had taken him a month to finish _The World in the Walls_ , and he’s halfway through this one.

He lays down on his bed, tucking an extra pillow behind his back. This one is more interesting than the first; Quentin had been right about that. Something tugs at Eliot’s heart, like it always does every time he thinks of Quentin. Swallowing it down, Eliot opens to his bookmark.

He reads for about fifteen minutes before his pulse starts to race, and stomach flips upside-down. He sits up straighter in the bed, swallowing hard as he brings the book closer to his face.

_Jane could see the little house in the distance, and just in front of it, a flat square, full of white sand. Standing right in the middle of that square was an old man, with a long beard and hair as white as snow. His arm was extended, and he was holding something in his hand._

_As Jane stepped closer, her heart started to pound in her chest. The old man was holding a key._

_That was it, she knew at once. The Time Key. The last thing she needed to help her brother. The only thing that would power the watch in her hands._

_She could only hope this stranger would be willing to help her when she needed it most._

_Unable to stop herself, as soon as she was in earshot, she said loudly, “Did you just solve the mosaic?”_

_The man turned to her, and her breath caught in her throat when she saw his face. It was so familiar, like she’d met him before, or maybe seen him in a dream once. Her brow furrowed in confusion; it was impossible. She would remember meeting this man, with his long white ponytail and beard, tied up in a similar fashion._

_Beyond that, what really struck her were his eyes. Soft and brown, and so utterly sad. What had this man seen, that had destroyed him so? She wanted to ask, but it was hardly her business. Hardly her place._

Eliot’s eyes squeeze shut, and he places the book against his chest. He knew this was coming, was part of why he wanted to read the books. Fighting against the burn in his throat, he exhales hard, picks up the book, and keeps reading.

_“With a friend,” the man told Jane. “We solved it together.”_

_Instantly Jane forgot all about the man and his troubles, and remembered her quest. Her troubles. “Well this is dreadful!” she said petulantly._

“Whiny bitch,” Eliot mutters underneath his breath.

_Jane took several steps towards the man, ready to beg, plead, anything she had to do to get that key. “You see—” Remembering herself, she shook her head. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude.” She stepped closer, passing a pile of blankets on the ground, near a daybed that was strangely clean for being stored outside, in the wild outdoors._

“That pile of blankets is only my _dead body_ , thanks for the respect,” Eliot says, rolling his eyes.

_“My name is—”_

_“Jane Chatwin,” the man finished for her._

_As she looked at him, confusion clouding her mind, that feeling of deja vu came over her again. “Do I know you? You do look….”_

_“Ah, just one of those faces,” the man said, looking down at the key in his hand, almost as if he can’t believe he’s holding it. He’s holding it so tenderly, like it could break at any moment. At times his eyes will dart to the pile of blankets on the ground, and then back to the key, back to Jane._

Eliot sets the book down on the bed, reaches for the bottle of blue Gatorade on his nightstand. He closes his eyes, tries to remember those last few moments at the mosaic. He remembers sketching out the pattern that morning—the hearts, breakfast with Quentin, joking about how they were getting old… and that’s it. He’s pretty sure that’s his last memory of the mosaic, although he and Quentin have never talked about that specific day. It was always just… too hard.

“Come on, you can do this. You should’ve done this a long time ago.” Squaring his shoulders, Eliot picks the book back up and continues.

_Jane took a few more steps forward, the watch clutched tightly between her fingers. This man has to explain, he has to realize… he has such kind eyes. He must take pity on her. He has to understand._

_“The dwarves,” she began. “They built me this watch. It’s terribly important. I need that key to power it.” She pressed her lips together, gave the old man her most pleading look, held out the watch as if it would start talking, saying “Please old man. She needs the key!”_

_The old man’s face fell, and he clutched the key between both hands. He looked at it, and Jane thought he may start to cry. He looked behind Jane again, and then back to the key. His voice cracked when he spoke. “It sort of took us a while to, um…” He trailed off, looked down at his feet, at the blank mosaic._

_Something about this man, the pain in his voice, stabbed Jane in the heart. But she had a mission. And she mustn't waver._

_“It’s just…” she swallowed, fighting against her own tears. “My brother, he’s—he’s become dangerous, and I’m trying to stop him.” The old man watched her, his eyes so gentle. “The dwarves told me if everything gets too buggered up to fix, I could use this watch.” It sounded so insane falling from her lips. But here she is, in another world she walks to through a clock, so who’s to say what is sane anymore?_

_“To create time loops,” the old man finished for her. Who is this man? How does he know so much? “You need the key to stop The Beast,” he said._

“Not that I’m not thankful that you started this whole thing because I died in the first timeline, Jane, but I’m just saying, there was probably a better way than killing us all 39 or 40 times or however many we ended up with at the end of the fucking day.” Eliot sighs, thumping his head back against his pillow. He holds on to his anger against Jane because anger is easier than sadness, which is fighting, beating at his chest to come out.

“Okay,” he whispers. “Just suck it up and finish it; it'll be over soon.”

_“What’s the beast?” Jane asked._

“What’s the _fucking_ Beast?” Eliot rolls his eyes. Yeah, sure she technically doesn’t know yet, whatever, but it’s only the _entire reason everything got so fucked up, Jane._

_The old man looked at Jane with something akin to pity. “Unfortunately, you’ll find out.” He looked down at the key in his hand, then off to the side. He made a contemplative noise, and then took a few shaky, hesitant steps toward Jane. Her heart swelled up as he held the key out to her. “You have to take it,” he all but whispered, staring at the ground._

_Jane stared at it, unable to believe that he was going to give it to her. Just like that. “Here,” he said, pushing it towards her. Jane could tell that it took everything within him to do so._

_She reached out and plucked the key out of his hand. It was cool against her fingertips. She felt a ripple of joy echo through her. She had it. She could do this. She could make things right._

_As many times as it takes._

Eliot can’t stop the tears from overflowing. He lets the book fall against his chest as they leave angry, hot trails down his cheeks. So many lifetimes. He can only remember two, just barely really, the mosaic and _his_ lifetime, but when he thinks about how there are dozens of other Eliot’s out there… dozens of other Quentin’s… he can’t help but weep for them. And for himself. What he lost. What they lost.

He’s not sure how long he’s laid there crying when the door to the bedroom thumps open.

“Eliot, what are you—” Quentin stops in his tracks when he sees Eliot’s face, and Eliot hurries to wipe the snot off his nose, try to clear away the tears that soaked into the collar of his shirt. Quentin drops his messenger bag to the floor, hurriedly crossing to Eliot’s side of the bed.

“Babe, what’s—” He stops short when he sees the book that’s fallen off Eliot’s lap. “ _Eliot_ ,” he says sternly. “You were supposed to _tell_ me when you started that one. So I could _warn_ you, _prepare_ you, _be here_ with you. You know how you get.”

Eliot sniffs hard, reaching for a tissue on the nightstand. “I’m _fine_ ,” he says. “There was something in my eye.”

Quentin laughs, sitting on the bed next to Eliot, pulling him tight against him. Eliot presses his nose into Quentin’s shoulder, sniffs loudly again. He can’t help the fresh tears that threaten him. “I just—”

Quentin squeezes him tighter. His arms are so strong, and Eliot cannot help but weep at a world where he might never feel them around his waist. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“You _did_ ,” Eliot sobs, pressing his face into Quentin’s neck. God, this is so embarrassing. But it feels so fucking good, like he’s pulling huge stones off his chest, one by one, his heart growing lighter by the moment. “You did.”

“I just went to the store,” Quentin says lightly.

“I don’t mean that, you dick,” Eliot says, chucking through his sobs.

“I know,” Quentin says, his shoulder shaking lightly with laughter. He pulls back, looking into Eliot’s eyes. “I did go away. And I came back. You brought me back. I’ll always come back to you, El. You know that.” He presses his lips to Eliot’s forehead. “No matter how much you push me away.” He brings both hands up to cradle Eliot’s face, to wipe away the last of his tears. His brown eyes, so tender, just like Jane described, shining with so much love it takes Eliot’s breath away.

“Even when you don’t listen to me when I tell you not to finish Bly Manor without me. Or to not read books that will bring back ridiculously traumatic memories without me being here.”

Eliot pulls him back into another hug. “I thought I’d be fine, _I_ was the one that died.”

Quentin tightens his arms around Eliot. “Yeah. I know,” he says quietly.

Eliot pulls back, pressing his lips to Quentin’s. “I love you.”

“I love you too, you sensitive bitch,” Quentin says. 

Eliot barks out a laugh, wrapping a hand around the back of Quentin’s neck as he smiles broadly. He feels like he could run a mile, do a cartwheel, anything he wants—it’s the same way he always feels when Quentin’s in the room.

“I’m not sorry about Bly Manor though, you said you wouldn’t be able to watch it for almost two days and I don’t know how you expected me to wait that long.” He’s smiling so big it almost makes his teeth hurt.

“Alright,” Quentin says, standing up and pulling Eliot along with him. “Come tell me all about how much you hate Jane while you make dinner.”

“While _I_ make dinner? I was just sobbing my heart out.”

“You want me to do it? Okay.”

“No, no, I’ll do it. I want something more than frozen pizza.”

“You _like_ frozen pizza.”

“Not _every_ night!”

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I know Plover wrote the books and he wouldn’t have included all the detail. 
> 
> This little fic came from when AmbiguousPenny, on 11/10/2020, at 4:46PM CST said:
> 
> “Hey, do you think when Eliot finally read the books, when he got to the part where Jane got the time key from the old man at the mosaic, you think he had a moment? I feel like he had a moment probably”
> 
> Please find me on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/rubickk7) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Rubick71).


End file.
